You have those moments, right? Those moments where maybe something is driving you crazy now, but at the same time you realize that you would miss it if it were gone? Or rather, you will miss it when it's gone.
I had one the other night.
So, the latest phase I've entered being the mother to a toddler, is the don't-get-to-use-the-bathroom-by-myself phase. Like, ever.
Because if we're at home, she has to be there. Right there. Whether I'm on the potty, brushing my teeth, or taking a shower, she has to be... right there. In our not-very-big bathroom. Right there.
If we're out in public together, she has to be... right there. In the stall with me. And God forbid I try to leave her with Daddy, or Grandma, or whatever other adult we're with so I can pee in peace. Nope. Public tantrum ensues if I even think about it. So. Right there.
And then I think "well, I get to pee alone at work". But not really. Because they're like public restrooms, with eight stalls. So yes, I do manage to get a stall to myself, but it's just not the same as actually getting privacy while you're doing your thing, you know?
And yes, this annoys me. Sometimes, it exasperates me. Some days, all I want is to pee in peace. Or to take a shower without someone pulling back the curtain to see what I'm doing, letting water get all over the bathroom floor.
I have a new found appreciation for using the bathroom by myself. It is a luxury I hope I do not soon take for granted.
So the other morning, I was taking my shower, and Jena was sitting on her little potty next to the tub, not actually going, or even trying to go, but just because it's next to the tub and Mommy's in the shower. I'm rinsing my hair when I feel the familiar cold blast of air that tells me the curtain has been pulled back. Open my eyes to see Jena grinning at me, handing me her "puhple bubble" - her bath soap. Cute, right? But it's been a long night and a long morning already, and I'm more annoyed by the fact that there's water getting all over my formerly dry bath rug and her potty and her, and that we've had this talk a gazillion times before.
I crouch down, still in the tub. Thank her for the bubbles and set them down, explaining that I have my own soap, and point to it. I tell her I need to close the curtain so no more water will get out and on the floor, at which point she looks around and notices all the water. Remember? I say, that's why we don't open curtains while Mommy or Daddy are taking showers. She grins and goes back to her potty to keep her wait-till-Mommy-gets-done vigil.
As I pull the curtain back shut, it hits me.
I'm gonna miss this.
There will come a day, when she will no longer follow me into the bathroom. And I can already see myself, sitting on the toilet, wondering why my bathroom seems so lonely, so quiet.
There will come a day when Jena will have no interest in following me around. Will not cry out for me because I have the nerve to try to pee without her.
There will be a day when no one tries to hand me "puhple bubble".
And... I will miss this.